


Closer

by kisssanitygoodbye



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, M/M, Magic, Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 05:31:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisssanitygoodbye/pseuds/kisssanitygoodbye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke is drunk and injured. Not the best combination. But Anders can surely help, right? Right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer

Fabian couldn’t hear the slightest sound coming from inside the Clinic when he knocked on the door, a little louder than was absolutely necessary.

Or maybe that was just because the muffled sound in his ears made everything around him seem muted and dull. 

Fabian blamed the ale and Whiskey for the way his head was swimming. He couldn’t quite remember the chain of events that had led him to Anders’ door, but he was pretty sure that Varric – trusty friend that he was - had sent him here. The memory was blurred, just like everything else at the moment. It came back to him slowly, though, and a small grin lit up his face at the images re-entering his mind; Varric tying a piece of cloth tight around his forearm while simultaneously trying to support a staggering Fenris (who was starting to look a little bit green even as he sang) saying,  _Hawke, just get to the Clinic. Blondie’ll look after you. Can you do that?_ Then Fenris had thrown up, right in the middle of a swelling chorus too, all over Varric’s boots;  _Bloody brilliant,_ Varric had cursed under his breath,  _Do you understand Hawke? Go find Anders._

Vaguely, Fabian remembered nodding. It was  _Anders_  after all. He would never pass up the opportunity to see the healer. Varric was the best wingman in Thedas.

The corridor remained silent, only the typical Darktown sounds - crying Babies, yelling drunks and shattering glass - could be heard. Fabian slumped forward against the wall and took a shaky breath. He knocked again, harder this time, wondering what was taking so long. Anders was always ready for emergencies, even in the middle of the night.

The cool night air and the many steps to the pit of Darktown, followed by the sobering reek of the sewers, had Fabian feeling a little less off-his-face-drunk now. The cloth that Varric had tied around his arm was tight, uncomfortably so, and Fabian pulled at it distractedly. He gasped when sharp pain shot through his arm, blinking slowly at his hand when it came back slicked in red.  _Oh_. Right, the bar brawl. He should have known that a Saturday Night at the Hanged Man would most likely end in trouble.

When the door opened abruptly, he stumbled forward into a very sleep-rumpled Anders, and his breath hitched in his throat when he lifted his head to look at him. He was beautiful; hair down, slightly dishevelled, dressed only in linen trousers and a thin tunic, with his signature perpetually-concerned expression creasing his face.

Fabian’s mouth went dry.

“Hawke! Sorry, I was asleep and… what happened to your arm?” Anders stepped back and let Fabian in, rapidly slipping into healing mode and pointing him toward a cot, “Sit down.”

“Well, Hanged Man. You know how it can be,” He shrugged, feeling something pull in his arm, “someone thought it would be fun to start a brawl, and one of them had a knife. It’s not deep, I think, but I really don’t want to deal with infection.” He knew that his voice sounded lower than usual, the words slurring at the edges.

Anders pushed Fabian’s sleeve up to get a better look at the wound, but then he stopped and furrowed his brows. “Your shirt is too tight. I can’t see all of it. Mind taking it off?”

Fabian smirked, starting to work on the buttons. “If you want to see me naked, you only have to ask.” 

“How many drinks have you had?” Anders asked, stepping back to give Fabian more room to move before crossing his arms over his chest, looking down at him with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Just enough.” He undid the last button and reached up to pull his uninjured arm free before he carefully slid out of the other sleeve, hissing as the fabric scratched over his wound, “It would have been a great night if it wasn’t for those idiots.”

“Hm… oh well, there’ll be other nights, right? If anyone can turn a boring evening into an occasion, it’s you.” Anders stepped forward, the left corner of his mouth pulling upward into a mischievous grin when he stopped right in front of him, bending down again and pulling Fabian’s arm toward him to get a closer look. Fabian shivered when Anders ran a hand over the wound, sending the lightest sparks of magic across his skin. “You’re right, it’s not deep. Still, it needs treatment. Hold on.”

Fabian watched as Anders walked around the Clinic, collecting a salve and bandage from one of the shelves, and a poultice from his desk. As he stood on tiptoes to get the jar from the top shelf, his tunic rode up, exposing a narrow strip of smooth skin. And suddenly, the buzz in Fabian’s head could not only be blamed on the alcohol anymore. Maker, he wanted that man.

When Anders came back and put his hand over the wound again, Fabian took a deep breath, desperately trying to regain control over his racing pulse. 

“Okay, I’m going to have to heal it a bit before I can put the salve on it,” he said, voice slightly hoarse, every word out of his mouth sounding like smoke, heavy and thick. Anders’ breath tickled his ear, fingers tracing carefully around Fabian’s wound and leaving tingling skin in their wake. He shuddered.

And then Anders’ hand was glowing, pure healing magic running through Fabian’s arm, warm and bright, and it spread through his body like a drug, pulsing through his veins, prickling on his skin, making the fine hairs on his body stand on end. No, this didn’t feel the slightest bit like his father’s healing. 

“Alright, I have to go a little deeper now,” Anders warned him, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. 

“Uh-huh,” Fabian mumbled, bracing himself on the cot and taking a deep breath. But when the magic hit him this time, all the breathing in the world didn’t help. It surged through his body, lighting him up from the inside, prickling on his lips and tongue with every wave. He was only dimly aware of his arm, which started trembling when Anders pushed even more energy into him, humming in his ears, trickling down to his toes, and it even tasted like  _him_ , freedom and elfroot and fresh, clear water - sobering, and intoxicating at once - and when another wave hit him, he groaned, feeling the blood rush to his cock. “Fuck.”

“Hawke? You alright?” Anders asked, and the magic slowly ebbed away, leaving only a tingling in his limbs. 

“Y-yes.” He was practically panting now, and the only thing he could think of was how Anders would feel under his hands, his lips, his tongue, what sounds he would make while he fucked him, fast and hard, right here on the cot, or against the wall, or… 

He should stop.

Anders looked at him, and Fabian could have sworn that he saw more than confusion and concern in his eyes. There was something else, barely noticeable, but it was there. Interest? Desire? He wasn’t sure.

The salve was cool and helped calm his racing heart, but when Anders wrapped the bandage around his arm, fingertips brushing against his skin, he licked his lower lip, want returning with full force. Fabian could still feel Anders’ breath on his face, ghosting over his cheeks and forehead, and he was painfully aware of his half-hard cock pressing against his breeches. 

“Anders?” He asked, the slur in his voice making the healer’s name sound like something that would only cross a Lowtown whore’s lips.

“Hm?” And this time, Fabian was absolutely sure that he saw the other mage’s eyes lingering on his chest before they flicked up to his own, hazy and dark with want.

He didn’t need words. He didn’t  _want_ words. With a low growl, he put his hand at the back of Anders’ neck and pulled him in, crushing his lips against the other man’s.

Anders didn’t move, but he didn’t fend Fabian off either, so he pushed his tongue against Anders’ lips, unrelenting, until, finally, he surrendered with a sigh, opening his mouth to let Fabian in.

Fabian got up from the cot, feeling steady and sure on his feet now that the healing had lifted his drunken-haze, arms encircling Anders’ shoulders before he started walking, guiding them both over to the small bed at the back of the Clinic, half hidden by a high, wooden shelf.

Their contact broke when Fabian pushed Anders onto the mattress, reaching for the hem of his tunic and hastily pulling it over his head. 

“You’re drunk,” Anders remarked, putting a hand between them when Fabian wanted to join him on the bed.

“And I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I first saw you,” Fabian shot back, shoving Anders’ arm out of the way before he put a hand on the healer’s chest and pressed him against the mattress. A gasp escaped the other man’s mouth when Fabian crawled over him, pushed his hands back over his head and held them there, “I suggest you shut up and just enjoy this.”

“But I don’t think it’s a good id- aaah” Anders’ eyes dropped shut when Fabian let his free hand trail over his nipples, pinching one between his fingers and coating it in a thin layer of ice, just enough to make it hurt the tiniest bit. 

Fabian grinned before licking the ice away, making Anders groan. “It’s the best idea I’ve ever had, and I know you want it too. Just admit it, so I can continue. I’m not a big fan of non-consensual sex.” 

Anders lifted his head, heavy-lidded eyes meeting Fabian’s, and when Fabian shifted his weight and felt Anders’ erection through his trousers, he knew that he’d won. “I’m going to regret this,” Anders gasped, “but yes. Maker, yes.”

“Good,” Fabian descended again, letting his tongue travel over Anders’ chest, over muscles that twitched at the contact, down to the waistband of his trousers. Anders put his arms back to his sides and propped himself up on his elbows, watching as Fabian pulled the thin fabric down to his knees until Anders could shrug them off himself. Fabian grinned. ”Hm… no underclothes. Knew I was coming?”

And before Anders could answer with a sarcastic remark, Fabian enclosed him in wet heat, not breaking eye contact as he let his cock slide into his mouth while one hand wrapped itself around the base and squeezed. Anders’ half-formed protest broke off into a low moan. Fabian’s movements were slow at first, almost lazy as he slid up again, circling the head before pushing his tongue against the slit, repeating the movement until Anders let his head fall back and groaned, Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat as he swallowed. 

When Fabian took him in his mouth again, he pressed the flat of his tongue against the thick vein on the underside, before he started moving properly, head bobbing up and down as he repeatedly changed the angle to provide more friction. He tried to look at Anders’ face as often as he could, and whenever their eyes met, Anders bit his lip and bucked his hips up, releasing a shuddering sigh. Fabian couldn’t blame him. There weren’t many things hotter than seeing your cock disappear in someone else’s mouth. 

Anders’ breathing grew laboured, and when Fabian increased the speed of his movements, it didn’t take long until he felt a hand in his black hair, pushing him away.

“Stop,” the other mage panted, dragging a hand over his face and pushing a few stray strands of hair behind his ear. “Maker. I’ve almost forgotten how good it can be. It’s been… a while.”

“I figured.” Fabian got back into a more comfortable position, stretching out his body over Anders’ and pushing himself up on his hands, pressing them into the mattress on either side of him and looking down at him with a wolfish grin. “And you’re pretty lucky that I’m the one reintroducing you, if I may say so.”

“Good to know you’re not vain or anything,” Anders panted.

Fabian laughed. “Hm… snark in the bedroom. I could get used to this.” His own erection - still trapped inside his breeches - was screaming for attention by now, so he bent down and licked over Anders’ carotid before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh, eliciting another husky groan, before he wandered back down again. “Draw your knees up.” 

Anders complied, and finally Fabian had enough room on the bed to sit somewhat comfortably. He looked around, and a smirk pulled at his lips when he saw the jar on the nightstand. Anders followed his gaze and rolled his eyes before he took the salve and pushed it into Fabian’s hand.

“Lift your hips a bit.” When Anders obeyed, Fabian reached out and skimmed his fingers along the curve of his arse, light, teasing touches that made Anders groan in frustration.

“Hawke!”

“Pff… now you’re desperate all of a sudden.” Fabian accentuated his words with a quick brush along the cleft between Anders’ cheeks.

“Hnng… just… just fuck me!”

He shouldn’t feel as giddy as he did, but his stomach jumped at the thought that he would soon get what he’d wanted for years. It felt unreal, like a very vivid, alcohol-induced dream that made him wake with a groan and typically ended with his hand inside his pants. He was going to enjoy this as long as it lasted.

When Anders growled at him, he laughed, dipping two fingers into the salve, spreading his cheeks and touching one to his opening. Fabian spread the salve carefully before pushing the first knuckle inside and crooking it lightly, his other fingers brushing over the sensitive skin of his sac.

“I’m not going to be gentle, so I want to do this right. Stop glowering at me.” And then he pressed his finger deeper, twisting it, searching, and when Anders’ breath caught in his throat, he smiled triumphantly, gently rubbing against the spot until he heard a sharp hiss.

“Fuck, Hawke, please! I can take it. Just put them in!” Anders’ hands were balled into fists, and a light sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead, and it was the most beautiful thing Fabian had ever seen.

“Oh, fucking is indeed something I see happening in the near future. Patience, sweetheart.” It didn’t feel strange to talk to him like that, to feel him under his hands, all trembling muscles and desperate cries. His cock pulsed at the thought.

Finally, he gave in, adding a second finger and scissoring them, stretching muscles that clamped down around him whenever he hit Anders’ prostate, and it didn’t take long until his movements didn’t feel so much like an intrusion anymore, but wanted, welcomed. He settled into a quick rhythm, more rough than gentle, repeatedly stroking over the spot inside Anders that made him quiver and gasp. No one he’d been with had ever been this responsive to his touch, and he would have been happy with fucking Anders with his fingers all night if it weren’t for his straining erection, swollen to a point that was almost edging on painful.

“Okay, seriously, that’s enough. I… nnn… I’m ready. Just fuck me already.” Anders’ eyes were pleading, desperate, and Maker, he was beautiful, hair splayed around his head like a halo, chest glistening with sweat, rising and falling in an erratic, irregular rhythm, his Adam’s apple standing out due to his current position, and Fabian quickly bent forward and dragged his tongue over it, feeling it bob up under his touch.

“Turn over,” he said, leaning back and watching as Anders rolled onto his stomach, drawing up his knees and leaning onto his forearms. Fabian opened his breeches, shifting on the bed to get them off, followed by his underclothes. Anders looked over his shoulder as he reached for the jar again, spreading salve over his hand and coating his cock with it, giving it a few long, firm strokes, moaning at the prospect of what was going to happen. “You ready?”

“Yes.”

Fabian spread Anders’ cheeks again, guiding his cock to his entrance, rubbing against it a few times before finally pushing in, just the head at first, and when he saw Anders nod in encouragement, he went deeper and gasped at the tight heat engulfing him before he pulled back. “You’re fairly loose. This shouldn’t hurt. Much.”

And then he gripped Anders’ hips, looking down at his cock, just barely entering the other man, and smirked before he took a deep breath and rammed into him, burying himself to the hilt in one, fast glide.

Anders’ head fell forwards onto his interwoven hands, and the sound he made could only be described as a sob.

Fabian chuckled. “I thought you said you were ready.” He pulled out a bit and waited before pushing in again, and this time he could feel Anders rocking back against him.

“I  _am_ ready. Maker, this feels—” His words were lost in another groan when Fabian started moving properly, building up a hard, fast rhythm, a shudder racking his body when Anders squeezed his cock, running through his arms and chest and making his thighs tremble against the healer’s skin.

He let his hands glide from Anders’ hips down to his chest before pulling his torso up, pressing his back against his chest, but the moment their bodies connected, his cock slipped out, the angle too steep to make proper movement possible, much less comfortable.

“Andraste’s arse. Alright, brace yourself against the shelf.” Anders turned in his arms before supporting himself against the dark wood, hands tightening around it, and now the angle was perfect.

“No, my arse”, he mumbled with a chuckle, and Fabian snorted before guiding himself into him again, and this time there was no resistance, Anders yielding under him, providing sweet, delicious pressure around his cock, and after he found his rhythm again, Fabian put his hands above Anders’, pinning him to the shelf and leaning forwards, completely covering his body with his own.

“You’re mine tonight.” His voice was husky, warm breath ghosting over Anders’ shoulder and making him shiver. “I want you to feel this,  _really_  feel it. And not just now. I want you to remember how I felt inside you, no matter who you’re going to be with. Always.”

Anders whimpered, pushing back against him, urging him on, and Fabian sank his teeth into his shoulder with a growl, biting hard enough to leave an angry red welt behind.

“Try explaining that to your patients tomorrow”, he growled, turning his head and repeating the action on the side of Anders’ neck before licking over the bruised skin.

For a short moment, the only sound in the Clinic was their heavy breathing, echoing off the walls, until it was joined by the slap of skin against skin again.

Fabian slid his hands along Anders’ arms, one stopping at his shoulder and gripping it, the other bracing on his hips. Now he added a firm pull to every push, increasing his speed until Anders cried out, jerking so violently in his arms that Fabian could feel it all the way down to his legs.

“You love this, don’t you? Just look at you. You’re a fucking mess.” He could feel the pressure building, the long period of painful arousal and the fast pace he tried to keep up were too much for him to remain in control. This was not how he wanted it to end, though. “Touch yourself. I want to feel you come.”

Anders released one hand out of its grip around the shelf and let it travel down until he wrapped it around his cock, thick and red-headed and leaking with pre-cum. He shuddered at the first contact, groaning as he tried to match Fabian’s frantic rhythm, and Fabian could see Anders’ shoulders tensing. He was undoubtedly close.

With a small grin, Fabian let magic flow through his arm into his hand, not to coat it in ice, but just enough to have coldness radiating off his skin. He pressed his hand between Anders’ shoulder blades and made him gasp in surprise, before he skimmed over his back and his hips, coming around the other mage’s body, and - grin turning into a full-out smirk - pressed it against Anders’ groin, right next to his straining cock.

The reaction was imminent. Anders’ whole body tensed, and Fabian gasped at the sudden increase in pressure around his own cock, still buried to the hilt in tight heat that started convulsing around him when every muscle started trembling under his touch. Anders released a sound that was more animal than human, body rearing up, his free hand coming around to wrap itself around Fabian’s neck as waves of pleasure rippled through him, and Fabian pressed a kiss against his temple when Anders finally went limp in his arms. 

He kept fucking him for a few seconds, long, slow strokes to bring him down from the high. “I’m almost there, Anders.”

“Come, then,” the other mage murmured, voice tired and raw. 

Fabian stopped his movements, getting way too close to the point of no return. “I want to come on you. I want to see it.”

Anders turned, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? Well, that can be arranged, I think.”

And with a lopsided grin, he pulled away, making Fabian groan at the loss of contact.

He watched as Anders laid down on his back, slick with sweat and his own cum, breathing back to normal but cheeks still flushed. Fabian bit his lip as he inched forward, Anders spreading his legs to let him settle between them. 

When he started stroking his cock, quick and erratic, balls already tightening, Anders grinned up at him.

“You’re  _so_ close, aren’t you?” he said, low and hoarse, and the sound of his voice sent shivers down Fabian’s spine. “Come on, let go. I know you want to. Feel the tension in your body. It’s like a taut string, right? Let it snap.”

Fabian was trembling now, his movements getting jerky, blue eyes meeting amber ones and never breaking contact.

“And you know what? Your prediction was right. I can still feel you inside of me.”

That did it. Fabian cried out, sensation tearing through his body as thick white ropes spilled from him and landed on Anders’ chest and stomach. Deep, open-mouthed breaths made his chest rise and fall as he milked his cock, brushing it against Anders’ to smear the last drop onto his skin.

“Fuck.” He couldn’t muster up the strength to say anything more before he collapsed on the small bed, his body half covering Anders’. The healer dragged a finger through the milky white fluid and brought it to his lips, tongue darting out and licking it off.

“You’re going to be the death of me”, Fabian groaned, burying his head in Anders’ shoulder.

Anders grinned. “Hm… and here I thought  _I_ was the lucky one.”


End file.
